


First Time For Everything

by cryscendo



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 05:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4126485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryscendo/pseuds/cryscendo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What had he done?</p>
<p>It all happened so fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time For Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Written based on a writing prompt. Please enjoy.

What had he done?

It all had happened so fast, he couldn’t even process what he did properly. Dick Grayson, the masked vigilante, was shaking violently, the words “what have I done” being repeated in slightly panicked intervals. He was just trying to protect his brother; protect Tim. He had no intention of letting his anger getting out of hand, it usually doesn’t. Typically when he threatens, it’s simply made out to be a scare tactic. He never purposefully attacks with the intentions of doing any more damage aside from a few broken bones.

Dick could hear the sound of Timothy Drake’s voice a few feet away from him. It sounded like he was saying something along the lines of “Nightwing? Nightwing, it’s okay,” but Dick couldn’t really be sure. The flurry of emotions that Dick was feeling created a sharp ringing in his ear, as if he was going deaf. He felt as though he might throw up if he doesn’t end up passing out beforehand. It was clear that Dick was not completely in the right place at that moment. He needed to get up high before he felt as though the tall buildings were going to crush him under their massive weight.

Tim’s calls towards Nightwing became more urgent as it became clear that Dick was expressing to be less and less there. Before things could get any worse for him, Dick backed away from his younger brother as well as the lifeless body that was brought down by Nightwing’s anger-filled punches. It was all in one, swift motion that he pointed his hookshot toward the top of a nearby tower and evacuated the scene of the crime. Normally, he would never leave the scene of the crime, but he felt like the lack of air was going to get to him before he could collect himself.

He could faintly hear Tim’s attempt to call out for him, his speech patterns changed from “Nightwing” to “Dick” in their urgency. Dick knew that Tim would need to let the police be notified to the death of a criminal before he could even consider chasing after him, which he had no doubt he would do. Tim was a good kid. He only did what he felt was the correct thing to do, despite it going against some other’s better judgement.

Letting his breath catch up to him, Dick overlooked the city of Gotham. It was peaceful from the rooftops, if anything. It was only when you hit the streets is when things start to quickly get very grim. What Dick was most focused on, however, was trying to decrease his heart rate. The last thing he needed was a panic attack on a rooftop where nobody could see or help him. Bad things can happen of rooftops too. He knew that all too well from personal experience. No place in Gotham was completely safe in its entirety.

It was after a few minutes of silent meditating until Dick finally heard the voice of the only person that mattered in his mind not even twenty minutes before. “Dick?” Tim spoke up, his tone seeming to err on the side of caution as he approached Dick, sitting next to him on the roof. “Dick, are you gonna be alright?”

It was evident that Tim was unsure of what to say. He didn’t want to upset the ex-acrobat, but he couldn’t just completely brush off his sense of concern either. They both have a mutual understanding of each other, and care for one another just as the would if they were blood brothers. There’s people like Damian Wayne who put the word ‘blood’ on some sort of pedestal, as if it meant anything in reality. It just like anything else was just a title giving to express superiority, not having any real meaning behind it. It especially doesn’t define family.

While Tim had been sitting next to the older of the two, he realized that Dick wasn’t actually looking at him. He really wasn’t looking at anybody or anything in particular, really. But of all things, Dick looked like he was desperately trying to get his mouth to form words. He knew he couldn’t just leave Tim’s question unanswered, that would be unfair to him. Tim even taking the initiative to follow after the older vigilante proved to show how much he actually cared about the well-being of that of Dick Grayson.

Building up a tension in his chest, Dick spoke with a very choppy tone, all the while shaking his head. “I killed him, Tim. I didn’t mean to, you were just in trouble and I-,” Dick cut himself off, swearing under his breath. He began shaking again, words quickly becoming a very hard thing to maintain clearly. Nightwing - no, Dick Grayson - didn’t believe murder was ever justifiable. Bruce had taught him at a young age that one is to fight for justice, not vengeance. Those words stuck with him for most of his life all the way up to now. However, he all but threw away everything the elder Wayne had taught him at that moment. He could’ve easily just taken the criminal down with a few good swings, but he kept going. That was his fault and he was solely to blame for that.

Tim didn’t know where to go from there. He really did want to be the emotional support at that moment that Dick was on any other given day, but he just didn’t know how to be. It wasn’t something that just came naturally to him. He still felt the responsibility to try, however. He at least owed Dick that. “Dick? What you did tonight, it can’t be blamed. Nobody would’ve had self-control in your position.”

“That’s not the point, Tim! That was never the fucking point!” Dick’s voice had an unnatural bite to it. He can’t recall ever raising his voice to Tim before, at least never because of a situation like this. Typically, if Dick was angry with Tim, there was usually reasoning involved, something that Tim did that ignited an argument. But in this case, he was only trying to help. He was only offering the bit of support he knew how to and Dick snapped at him. He swore, he was losing his cool way too easily.

Tim didn’t say a word after the fact. It was clear that Dick needed to let himself cool down. So many emotions were building up inside of Dick that wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with them all. He knew for certain that yelling at his younger brother was not going to be the route he took to deal with them, however.

Sucking in an awfully staggered breath, Dick spoke again. His voice was uncommonly fragile sounding, as if it were made from a thin layer of glass that could break and shatter at any moment. “I couldn’t control what I did. I can’t change it either. Nothing mattered more to me than you at that moment.” Dick bit at his lower lip, removing his mask to rub pathetically at his stinging eyes. They were threatening to release a buildup of tears as he spoke. But he kept going. He needed to be upfront about what he was saying. He shouldn’t be feeling sorry for himself either, but he was, if not just a bit. “I’ve been in the position you were just in before, but nobody was there to help me. I didn’t want the same to happen to you, you deserve more than that.”

He was quite remarkable that his speech was as even as it was at the time, seeing as his cheeks were being warmed by the tears that were gliding down his skin. “Now for some damn reason or another, I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself, while you could’ve gotten so much worse off than I am.” Dick wiped at the wetness on his cheeks, halfway hoping he could wipe away the burning redness that was undoubtedly reaching his face.

It never occurred to him that this was the first time Tim has ever seen him cry. He usually presented himself to be strong-willed and optimistic. Seeing this side of Dick Grayson, one who is so vulnerable and easily succumbs to emotions probably looked almost surreal, if not a bit shocking. Dick was the kind of person that would literally laugh in the face of danger while kicking its ass with utmost ease. Today, however, was clearly a different day. There was a first time for everything, one could assume.

Dick was a bit embarrassed that Tim had to see him like this. He needed to be the strong person he naturally was. Dick knew that Tim looked up to him, if only a bit. He never fully understood quite the extent of his sort of idolization towards the previous boy wonder, but he guessed to the best of his abilities. He knew for certain though, Tim was not looking up to someone who was crying over one mistake that he made, pitying himself in the process. That was by no means idol material, Dick knew well enough. But that didn’t stop the childish waterworks from falling all the same.

It occurred to Dick that he was having trouble speaking anymore. Words were catching in his throat like flies getting caught in a spiderweb, refusing to pass through as anything more than incoherent warbles of sound. He was the very definition of a mess. He could suddenly feel himself encased by another form, very clearly smaller than his own, but by no means insufficient by any definition of the word. Tim Drake did the one action he thought to do at the moment. And though it by no means changes the previous events, Dick appreciated it. Tim was willing to drop all his distant behaviours to make sure that at that moment, Dick felt the same comfort that he somehow always managed to give.

It took a few seconds to processing to realize that the younger of the two was indeed hugging him. All that was going through Tim’s mind was ‘What would Dick do in this situation?’ And genuinely, that’s all that it took. Granted, Dick had not ceased shaking nor was his crying put to a standstill, but it still helped. It meant something. Dick only then decided to return the gesture, quivering arms pulling Tim even closer than he was originally. Dick didn’t care if the position was out of the ordinary, it was the correct thing to do at the time, and that took precedence over everything else.

The theoretical clock was ticking rather slowly as Dick kept Tim close to his chest. Dick breathes in while his face was pressed close to Tim’s hair, catching the scent of what can be assumed to be Tim’s rather generic shampoo. Tim wasn’t like Dick in that he could spend nearly eighty dollars on hair products alone. It wasn’t much, but it still gave a sort of comfort value. It was something familiar, something Dick could immediately relate to the younger one. 

Unfortunately, this didn’t remove the previous events of the evening from his thoughts. He shouldn’t had even expected it to. It did leave a slight numbing feeling, though. Dick realized this once Tim was no longer pushed against the other. This didn’t completely break their contact, however. This was nothing even remotely intimate, it was just as it was before; a comfort device. One hand rested on top of Tim’s while the other ran through his own hair with ease. To Dick, touching was a form of some sort of connection. Despite all things, Dick was a fairly emotional person, though not usually to the extent that had been broadcasted that night. It was mainly just that he was one that typically showed off how he was feeling at any given moment. Didn’t matter if he was angry, excited, agitated, whatever. They were all fairly obvious to those he came across.

Was Dick still upset? Yes, there wasn’t much changing that. Tears still hadn’t stopped falling, though they had slowed considerably. He wasn’t looking at Tim anymore, who remained sitting next to him, he was focusing his attention on the streets of the city that he worked to protect instead. He no doubt had to turn himself in after that night, his moral values wouldn’t allow him to do otherwise. Whether it’d do any good or they’d even arrest him had yet to be discovered. He’d done a lot of good for the city for them to just overlook that, he thought. But still, that didn’t leave him at any less fault.

He wasn’t entirely sure when it happened, but somehow their simple touching turned into Dick’s fingers intertwined with Tim’s. This truly showed how attentive Dick was at that moment. Not that this was by any means bad however. If Tim was looking at him, Dick had no idea. Though it could only be assumed he was when Dick lifted their joined palms up from their original position, bringing the back of Tim’s gloved hand up against his lips. Dick’s eyes closed as he held Tim’s hand there for what could feel like time was dragging by in half speed. Tim’s eyes were undoubtedly locked on him when he muttered something against the back of Tim’s hand. It was somewhat incoherent in volume, and if it weren’t for the stillness of the atmosphere, Tim would’ve missed it altogether. He, however, didn’t.

“Thank you.”


End file.
